


It's Okay to Feel This Way

by pajamabees



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, and that's okay, i was sad so i wrote this, sometimes Alfred is depressed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 20:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pajamabees/pseuds/pajamabees
Summary: “Alfred,” he said, and it was so warm Alfred almost melted, “It’s okay for you to feel that way. You’re allowed to be sad.” The tone in his voice made no room for argument, and Alfred wasn’t sure how he would have argued against that, anyway. The way Ludwig said it made him believe it. “But, please promise that you will let me help you. I want to help you, Alfred. And never think for one second that you don’t deserve it.”





	It's Okay to Feel This Way

Alfred couldn’t explain the horrible pain curling around his heart. It wasn’t like a wound, which was sharp and hot as his body’s nerves worked to send signals to his brain that something was wrong. No, a wound was blaring and loud, sometimes loud enough Alfred couldn’t hear anything except for the rush of his own blood and the pounding of his heart. This, though, was much different. It was an ache directed right at his chest, and it spread out with winding tentacles until Alfred’s throat felt swollen. It even reached the tips of his fingers, desperately trying to find a way out when it was obvious his throat wouldn’t budge—when Alfred wouldn’t budge. He refused to make a sound, refused to let a single sob escape the confines of his body. That feeling always found a way out, though. If it couldn’t release itself in the form of a sob, then it went out in tears, and that was something Alfred had little control over no matter how hard he fought. And then before he knew it, his body was shaking, the pillow hugged against his cheek wet with salty tears.

It was embarrassing and  _pathetic_ , and he forced himself to be alone as punishment. He didn’t deserve the distressed meowing behind his closed door, because there was no reason for him to feel so down and useless. It was just something that built up over a span of a few weeks, but nothing had even happened.

He supposed maybe it was the weather—Alfred was in his prime during the warm, sunny days of spring and summer, but that isn’t to say he didn’t like the colder seasons. In fact, he loved them. He loved heavy winter coats and cozy scarves. He loved the new flavor of lattes at his local coffee shops, and the rain that pattered against the windows as he drank and thanked the barista. There was nothing about the cold weather he didn’t like, except for the few minutes it took for his car to heat up on days that were below freezing.

So why, then, did this happen? Why was he degraded to such a state that rendered him absolutely useless and bed ridden until his mouth begged for water? He decided long ago that there was no reason why; he was just weak. And when Ludwig walked into his room, quiet and hesitant, Alfred stopped breathing, because what if Ludwig took one look at his pitiful form and thought the same?

_Then he’d be right_ , he thought bitterly to himself, but a deeper part of him wanted to cry at the thought of Ludwig thinking so lowly of him. His self-destructive thoughts battled against that part of him, until it was stuffed and hidden even deeper and Alfred kicked off the blanket Ludwig had carefully laid over his freezing body because he deserved to be cold. There were people out there in the world who suffered through so much, and yet Alfred had the audacity to cry for no reason and allow himself to be tucked under a warm blanket?  _Weak_.

Alfred continued to grow frustrated as Ludwig came in every few hours and pulled that same blanket over his shoulders. He’d kick them off again, only for Ludwig to come back and patiently tuck him in. He never said a word, and not once did he ever step in front of Alfred’s view. It was a back and forth battle between Alfred’s stubborn destructiveness and Ludwig’s delicate and caring nature. It made Alfred so angry—couldn’t Ludwig see that he didn’t deserve such kindness when he was acting like such a big crybaby?

“Stop it,” he tried to ground out after the fifth time, but his voice cracked at the last syllable. He wasn’t sure if Ludwig had heard him, but the man left after a few tense seconds, and Alfred shivered at the cold, his fingers twitching towards the soft blanket pooled at his feet. He felt another wave of tears threaten to fall when he realized that Ludwig was probably annoyed at him when not even a minute after Ludwig left, he heard the door open again. This time, it wasn’t Ludwig’s soft footsteps that entered the room, but rather three sets of paws.

Before he could even put the pieces together, three dogs jumped onto the bed, wagging tails and all. Alfred didn’t roll over to greet them and remained on his side, but he did hunch his shoulders up when long, wet snouts rubbed at his face and neck. The sound of sniffing and the twinkling of dog tags were almost comforting, and his lips twitched at the constant movement of the bed as the hounds searched for a spot to settle. Their shuffling ended in one pup curled against his stomach, another at his back, and finally, one tucked behind Alfred’s bent knees. Alfred barely registered the door closing with a soft click.

All was quiet then, and Alfred was at a loss. Ludwig had listened when he was told to stop, but not without figuring out a loophole. He knew that while Alfred would certainly continue to rip off any blanket Ludwig offered, there was no way Alfred would kick the dogs off the bed or push them away.

The last thought that crossed Alfred’s mind before he melted against the warmth of dog fur and drifted off to sleep was that Ludwig was very, very sneaky.

*****

Alfred woke up two times. The first time, it had grown dark, but the room was still lit in a warm, orange glow. Confused, Alfred lifted his head up slightly, causing the hound against his stomach to shift and roll into a more comfortable position on its back.

The source of the soft light came from the windows; specifically, the curtains. Behind the transparent beige cloth were the string lights Alfred had put up a year ago. He had forgotten they were even there, and right now they were plugged in and casted warm light around the room. It wasn’t strong or bright, and it created comforting shadows across the floor and up the walls.

Alfred, sleepy and befuddled, quickly settled back into bed and drifted off once more before his thoughts gathered enough strength to keep him up and torment his mind.

But then he woke up again, an hour later, or maybe just a few minutes later—he didn’t know. But he did know the scent that wafted against his nose almost soothingly. He recognized what it was before he even saw the steaming cup on his bedside table, and he may have sat up a little too eager. The dogs perked up at the sudden movement, and the cat, which Alfred had just noticed was lounging on his pillow, lazily opened his eyes but other than that wasn’t interested.

Alfred’s heart lurched at the sight, but not painfully as it had done so many times that day. His favorite mug sat on the small table, the one with constellations scattered around it. Inside was also his favorite hot drink—hazelnut latte. Beside that was a plate with a single, blueberry muffin. Alfred was surprised the dogs hadn’t tried to steal it while he was asleep, but he figured Ludwig probably gave them a stern ‘no’ and an accusing finger. The dogs were very interested in it now though, and Alfred had to lightly push away their snouts as he tried to eat the muffin. He may have let a few crumbs fall on purpose.

His mind cleared as the flavors hit his tongue, and he realized just how hungry he had been. The muffin was gone too soon, and he immediately reached over a doggy head to grab the steaming mug. He finished that off quickly, too, and he was left to his own devices once again, except this time with three pairs of curious puppy eyes and one pair of judging cat eyes.

It was then that he started to feel shameful. The destructive part of his thoughts was disappearing and left him in a pit of despair and regret. He felt spoiled and mean. Ludwig continued to help despite Alfred’s nasty attitude before, and he did so in a subtle, hesitant way. Alfred could tell by the placement of the mug and plate on the bedside table. They had been slightly hidden from view, on the other side of the lamp rather than the side Alfred could easily reach. At first, Alfred thought it was so the dogs would have a difficult time getting to the muffin, but no matter how far away the food was, if Ludwig said no the dogs would obey.

Ludwig had put them in such a position in case it wasn’t what Alfred wanted. Same thing with the lights: he didn’t know if Alfred wanted to wake up in the dark or with some light, so instead of turning on the lamp beside his bed, he plugged in the string lights, which were dimmed by the curtains. It was like an equilibrium, the way Ludwig thought. Alfred was cold, but he didn’t want the blanket. His answer was to bring the dogs in. It was getting late and the room was dark; Ludwig decided to turn on Alfred’s string lights for minimal brightness, in case Alfred didn’t want anything too glaring. He knew Alfred was hungry and thirsty, so he brought in a snack and drink but ‘hid’ them, so Alfred didn’t feel forced to eat. Ludwig relied on verbal communication, but Alfred was in no state to tell Ludwig what he needed. So, Ludwig guessed, thinking back on everything Alfred enjoyed but was wary on what the correct course of action was.

Butterflies fluttered in Alfred’s stomach at just how attentive and observant Ludwig was, but he also felt absolutely horrible.

The door opened in that moment, and Alfred turned his head at Ludwig peaking into the room. That same hesitance contorted his face in a worried frown, but his eyes held a tint of hope at seeing Alfred sitting up in bed rather than curled on his side.

“Sorry,” Ludwig said, opening the door wider. He gave Alfred a sheepish, regretful look. “The dogs need to go out.”

Alfred stared for a second, shame crawling at his throat that the poor dogs had to hold it in just to comfort him. But he nodded and shooed the dogs away quietly.

They trotted towards Ludwig, and before the door closed Alfred scrambled for something to say.

“Um,” he breathed, and for a second, he didn’t think Ludwig heard him. But the door stopped, and Ludwig’s head peaked in again. The words were stuck in Alfred’s throat—not that he even knew what to say anyway. He struggled for a little while, avoiding Ludwig’s patient stare, until finally he spoke again. “You can leave the door open.”

He inwardly flinched, because it wasn’t what he wanted to say, but he hoped Ludwig understood the invitation.

Ludwig just nodded with a hint of a smile, and then he was gone, the door opened wide enough that Alfred could watch the dogs hop and run through Ludwig’s legs in excitement as they were led to the front door.

Alfred reached for the blanket crumbled at the foot of the bed and pulled it over his crossed legs. He played with the fabric for a little while, until Hammy, wanting some attention, slid himself between Alfred’s arm and side and settled into his lap.

By the time Ludwig came back, Alfred smiling at the sound of the dogs barking for treats, Hammy was purring from Alfred’s ministrations. He continued purring even as Ludwig walked into the room and Alfred stopped to reach for the man.

Ludwig didn’t hesitate; he crawled onto the bed and straight into Alfred’s arms, guiding the both of them down to lie back on the mound of pillows. Alfred’s position was a little uncomfortable as he twisted his torso to lean more into Ludwig, keeping his legs straight to not bother Hammy.

“I’m sorry,” Alfred said into his chest, his voice trembling and muffled against the fabric of Ludwig’s sweater. Ludwig hushed him with a kiss to the top of his head.

“There’s no need to apologize.”

“There is! I was a jerk! I was selfish and ridiculous and I should have—”

He was interrupted when Ludwig pushed himself up on an elbow and gently pulled Alfred from his chest. With his free hand, he cupped Alfred’s cheek, grabbing his attention with a loving gaze.

“Alfred,” he said, and it was so warm Alfred almost melted, “It’s okay for you to feel that way. You’re allowed to be sad.” The tone in his voice made no room for argument, and Alfred wasn’t sure how he would have argued against that, anyway. The way Ludwig said it made him believe it. “But, please promise that you will let me help you. I want to help you, Alfred. And never think for one second that you don’t deserve it.”

Alfred was at a loss for words, dumbfounded. All he could say was, “Okay.”

And then Ludwig leaned forward to place a kiss on his forehead, but Alfred lifted his chin at the last second and connected their lips. Ludwig didn’t recoil and instead pressed more into it, smiling as if he had expected it.

“Thank you,” Alfred breathed against his lips. Ludwig just hummed and kissed him again, lazy and slow, before reaching for the blanket and pulling it over them. Neither of them cared that the movement stirred the cat awake, and they tangled themselves together. Alfred snugged his way under Ludwig’s chin, that pain in his heart fading until it was so far away Alfred forgot what it felt like.


End file.
